Indulge your fantasies

Mia Chapter 6: I Can’t Stand the Rain

I can’t stand the rainAgainst my window

I Can’t Stand the Rain – Seal

Seattle 2005

The window of the psyche lab looked out on the quad below allowing him to watch her progress as crossed from her lecture to the cafe. Surrounded by a small group of her peers, she gave every appearance of being happy and part of the crowd but even from here, he could see the slightly stooped carriage and the half-smile that never quite reached her eyes. In the weeks since they had broken up, she had become rail thin but still the most stunning creature he had ever seen. Disgust filled him as the architect of her sadness. Tempted beyond all sane thinking to rush down and be at her side, he turned away from the window at the very moment that she glanced up.

“You know, you can’t make contact with her, again.” Professor Duncan approached him as she flicked through some paperwork on her clipboard. “If you do, they will make good on their promise and remove her from the program.”

Ethan turned his attention to the data analysis he was running. “I know. I know what this means to her and I would never do anything to jeopardize that.”

“But the heart wants what the heart wants.” The professor gave a sad smile and he wondered who it was that she had given up to be here. “Perhaps it will be easier when you ship out to Virginia. Distance can be an antidote.”

“Or its own form of hell.” The professor dropped her hand on his shoulder for a moment of solidarity then moved to the other side of the lab leaving him with his thoughts. He turned back to the window in time to see her moving through to the Computer Science building. Placing his hands on the window he resisted the temptation to break the glass and call out to her. To tell her everything that he felt in his heart. As she disappeared from sight the rain began to fall outside and he pulled his hands away sharply as he fought to hold back his own impotent tears.

Seattle, Sunday, May 29, 2011

One text message in two days! I’m going out of my mind!

The agency has set our team up with a place in the city, a converted apartment located in the International District, close to the port. Close enough to access everything we need but remote enough that we shouldn’t run into anyone we know. I should be grateful that I’m not having to sit through hours of fabricated conversations about Mia’s non-existent adventures in France. But I’m bored and frustrated with arms that ache to hold her body and eyes that need a fix of her smile. There is only so much video analysis one man can do before insanity starts to set in and all I see is Mia, in every grainy CCTV moment. I’ve made a list of possible marks to profile, done a thousand push ups and downloaded all of the data that Mia has sent through this morning from hacking into her Dad’s computer. All while plotting how to get Mia to a remote island for the rest of our lives.

The knowledge that she’s safely holed up at Bellevue, less than half an hour away is doing nothing to help me reign in the urge to get a glimpse of her up close and personal. To keep our cover active, we are both back, living at our respective childhood homes, at least until I officially move into the condo with Kate. Not much has changed with my folks, my dad lives at the office and my mother runs her design business from a boutique loft space downtown but brings her work home and drapes it all over the house. I love my mom but there’s a lot of shit I don’t need to remember about my happy childhood. My parents live close enough to reach the out and touch the Grey’s Bellevue mansion. I know this from months of sneaking around the lake to spend late nights tasting her lips.

After a morning avoiding temptation at the safe house, I arrive back home in time to have lunch with Mom and Dad before heading up to my room for more fictional postgrad application writing. So I’m only minutes away from Mia and it’s fucking killing me. By late afternoon, I’m getting carpal tunnel from the PS3 and cramp from an overactive imagination. I head downstairs and let Mom know that I am going for a run.

“Is everything okay, Ethan?” Mom stands at the kitchen sink, looking out over the garden with a knife in one hand and an apple in the other. A flashback of happier times slips under my radar. My mother sliding out of her self-induced coma and back into our lives in time for me to hit high school. She playfully slaps my hand when I steal a piece of apple and I can’t begrudge her happiness.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit restless.” I pick up another piece of apple and shove it in my mouth.

“You need a job or a girl, preferably in that order.” Don’t start, Mom. Please. I don’t answer, just give her a look that says discussion over. She smiles and turns back to the sink. “Dinner’s at 7. Your Dad and I are going out for coffee.”

“K! Have fun!” I give her a quick kiss and head outside, as a soft drizzling rain, the permanent feature of the Pacific Northwest, descends. I’m pounding the lakeside path on remote control before I realise that either my feet or my aching balls have taken me directly past Mia’s house. I stop at the point where I can see their private pier and the boathouse and I run on the spot, trying to make up my mind if I’m going to go through with this. The public path cuts along the bottom of their garden and heaven is within reach. I step into the cover of trees and take out my phone.

Hey babe, I’m here.

Ten minutes and I haven’t got a reply so I press send again. Another ten, and nothing. This time I dial and it goes straight to voicemail. Time to rock and roll. Keeping cover, I make my way up the side of the property. When I’m sure the back yard is clear, I dodge from tree to tree making my approach. A commando roll takes me behind a garden shed, then staying low and slow, I crawl through to the back of the pool house. I almost get caught by the housekeeper, a blond woman with her hair in ponytails. Apparently, Mia’s Mom has a type when it comes to hired help. You’d think after Elena, she would have learned.

Most of these older houses are laid out the same, bedrooms on the second level running the narrow side of the property near the fence line. My intimate knowledge of Mia’s bedroom notwithstanding, I would have guessed that her bedroom would have been the second one in from the wall of Timberlake I can see through the open window. Way back when, she would let me in through the laundry door when no one else was home and I would climb the spouting in the dark of night when some one was. Given the uncertainty of mid-afternoon foot traffic, the laundry door is a risk. So the spouting it is.

I begin to climb. I am almost at the roof of the side veranda when the pipe, slick with the newly fallen rain, turns into a vertical slip and slide. Losing purchase on the wet metal, there’s that flailing point of no return where the ground rushes up to meet me and I crash into the garden below, knocking the wind out of my chest. Lying in the petunias trying to decide if my organs are inside my body or out, I hear a window above me opening. Rolling out of sight seems like the smart thing to do until I impale my leg on a sharp-ass garden stick.

“Fuck! Jesus! Shit!” The searing pain makes me lose focus and remaining undetected becomes a distant memory. Some fucking spy I turned out to be! I close my eyes, trying to work out how I’m going to explain myself to the new in-laws when I hear Mia call out from above me.

“Ethan? What are you doing here?”

“Fly fishing.” I groan and roll onto my hands and knees, blood pouring from my leg. Okay, not pouring but it hurts like fuck, all the same. I glance up to see Mia smothering her laughter. “You could try being less entertained and more concerned.” My ribs hurt like a mother and breathing feels like its optional, so my smartass comment comes out as a kind of whining wheeze.

“Hang on. I’m coming down.” She steps out the window and shimmies down the same drain pipe that just attempted to kill me. Mia being Mia she makes it look like child’s play, landing with all the grace of a gymnast on the path next to me, not a hair out of place. Well, actually, that is not completely true. She’s got bed hair, so technically, every hair is out of place and she’s still cute as all fuck.

I sit back on my bruised and battered ass trying to work out if anything is broken. This shit was a lot easier when I was six years younger and twenty pounds lighter. Mia throws her arms around me and I gasp. “Argh! I think I’ve cracked a rib.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” She puts her shoulder into getting me off the ground and starts to pull me in the direction of the side door.

“Fuck, babe. I can’t go in through the house.”

“There’s no one here. Mom and Dad went out for coffee with friends. They only left a few minutes ago so they should be out for at least an hour.” I calculate how much I can achieve with one uninterrupted hour with her. It’s not much but it’s a start. We start to move and then I stop her, again.

“Wait! What about the housekeeper?”

“Gretchen? Pain in the ass but thick as two short planks. Don’t worry.” She pauses for a moment. “Unless you want to play it safe and go down to the boathouse.”

“Boathouse.” Without another word, she takes my hand again and leads me back the way I came. Only, this time with less commando rolls. Within minutes we are upstairs in the boathouse, standing in front of a picture window with a stunning view of the lake as we peel each other’s clothes off. She grabs my t-shirt and lifts it aggressively but the dampness makes it stick and wrenches my shoulder. “Fuck, babe… gentle.”

“I don’t think I can be gentle. God, I’m sorry, I just miss you so much.” We try again, this time getting the shirt over my head without putting me in traction. Then she turns her attention to my shorts and notices my leg. “Baby, you’re bleeding.”

I look down, for the first time really seeing the damage that’s been done. There’s no severed arteries but what was a trickle has become a gush and I immediately start feeling queasy. “So not good with blood.” She grabs me just before the lights go out and sits me down on the daybed.

“Jesus, Ethan. You’re afraid of a little blood?”

“Just my own.” I feel sick. I must look green because as soon as the words are out, she pushes my head between my legs. I hear her moving around the room, opening cupboards and then she’s back, squatting down in front of me. She’s located a first aid kit and begins to clean and dress my wound. No wound management would be complete without the viciousness of antiseptic.

“This might sting a bit.” She dabs at the cut.

“Holy fuck!” I pull my leg out of her reach with a hiss.

“Sit still, you big baby.” She looks pissed as she pushes my leg back down and puts a bandage across the cut, which now doesn’t look anywhere near as bad as it did a moment ago. “You know, all this medical care is taking away from some serious shagging time.”

“Do I make you horny, baby?” She presses aggressively on the bandage, making an extra effort to smooth out the edges. “Ow! Alright! Alright! If I’m a good boy will you promise to wear the nurse’s uniform next time?” She smiles and gives my leg a slap, just to see me jump.

“There, baby’s all better.” She packs up the kit and puts it away. By the time she turns, I’m perched on the edge of the bed, holding my leg out to her.

“Kiss better?” With a smile, she leans down and pressing gentle lips to the dressing. “And here?” I lift my arm, presenting my sore ribs to her and she places an open mouth kiss that makes me groan through the pleasure of the pain. Taking a chance on her playful mood, I stand and pull down the front of my shorts to reveal the serious hard on I’ve been carrying around with all day. “And here?”

With a giggle, she kneels down in front of me to take a thorough look at it. “No wonder you lost your grip. Is that what stabbed you in the leg?”

“What can I say, it’s a dangerous weapon.” I stroke my hand down my dick and she licks her lips.

“That looks like a nasty swelling you have there, Mr Kavanagh.” She palms me as she places those beautiful lips over the crown before running her tongue from base to tip. I have to suck in my breath. Fuck, that feels good. Closing her mouth around the head, she sucks hard then settles back to swirl her tongue over every sensitive ridge, while she pumps me with her hand.

“Oh, Christ, Mia, this is going to be the shortest blow job in history.”

Her wide eyes gaze up at me and she pulls back with a sucking pop. “Do you need me to suck out all that nasty poison?” She’s poised to take me in again but I know if she does, it will be ‘all over, red rover’ and I have other plans for that dick and her lips.

I pick her up so that her long legs are wrapped around my waist and gingerly carry her to the bed.

“How about a hot pussy poultice?” I murmur into her mouth, as I lay her down. She pulls my head down with her as she goes and we kiss hard, open mouth, devouring kisses, as I settle her on her back. Her shorts and panties are quick to slide off and then my fingers slide home into her hot pussy. “Fuck baby. You been missing me?”

“Not much. I’ve got Bob. What do I need you for?” The minx smirks at me so I position my dick at her opening and stroke through her wet folds. Her lips form a perfect ‘O’.

“Tell me, does Bob do that for you?” She shrugs. So I thrust slowly but firmly inside her making her suck in a breath. “Does he?”

She shrugs again so I thrust again, expelling a hiss of air of my own. Her gasp is my reward but I need to hear her say it. I need to know that no battery operated boyfriend is going to make her as hot or make her gasp as hard.

“Okay, I admit it.” Slowly, I pull out and thrust hard again, shoving her a little further up the bed. Her luscious tits bounce with the movement and I have to have my mouth on them.

“Admit what?” I suck her nipple into my mouth, enjoying the stiff little nub as I swirl my tongue around it.

“I need you. I want you. I love you. Nothing else can make me feel like this.” I suck hard enough to earn a pop and a yelp as I release her.

“Like what, Mia? What do you need?” My girl doesn’t mince words. She calls a fuck a fuck. But when she begs, it’s like feeding crack to my addiction. I want to hear the words.

“Fuck me hard, babe. Please.” Once more with feeling. Out slowly, slowly, slowly and slam!

“What do you need, sweetheart? Use your words.” It’s early days in our physical relationship but I know she has a vivid imagination. I’m sure she can come with something more descriptive and I really need to know what she’s feeling, what she’s thinking. The only person I struggle to read with any clarity is Mia. She’s mystery and minx rolled into one and I love her filthy mouth.

There is a small moment, a window, where I get the warning that the talk might be over. Maybe it’s that glint in the corner of her eye or the lift at the side of her mouth. Maybe it’s the raise of her eyebrow or the small imperceptible squeeze of her thighs but before I get a handle on it, she wraps her legs around my waist and flips me on to my back.

“Ow! Fucking hell, Mia!”

The pain is excruciating as my ribcage goes one way and my shoulder seems to go the other. The smack of my leg against the edge of bed sends a shock wave up to the base of my spine. But there’s no time to recover because this wild woman has cracked the whip and she’s riding me hard. Her tits bounce in front of my face and I hold her hips as she slides her pussy up and down my dick. It’s all I can do to keep up. This was my virginal little wife a week ago. What the fuck have I created?

“Don’t test me, Ethan.” She is bouncing up and down like I’m her personal pogo stick, her ripe tits jiggling in my hands and my dick struggling not to break under the onslaught. “I love you. I need you. I want you.” She throws her head back, her body desperate for release. I do the humane thing and reach down to rub her hard little clit. Her body is climbing and I thrust up hard as she screams out her release. I hope like hell that Gretel or Gravox or whatever her name is, is deaf as well as stupid because I think they heard Mia across the Canadian border. The squeezing of her muscles around my aching dick is enough to tip me over the edge and I pump up into her with a long moan.

“Fuck, babe. If that’s what you’re like after two days I hate to think what you’re going to be like after two weeks.” I’d laugh, but everything still hurts and laughing uses muscles that are a little preoccupied with breathing right now.

For a moment, she looks stricken and I could kick myself for bringing up my impending trip to Barbados. I shut my eyes but it doesn’t block out the vision I have of Mia, naked on the sand in Caribbean. God, what I wouldn’t give to be taking her with me. When I open my eyes, she’s looking at me with a sad expression in her beautiful brown eyes.

“I don’t want you to go. I’m not going to pretend otherwise.” Her hands are resting on my chest and I stroke down her arms to wrists. We both watch as our fingers lace together. I miss my wedding ring. I miss that small symbol that tells the world that she’s mine and I’m hers.

“Maybe you can find an excuse to fly down to Miami and then I can fly up to meet you.”

“I can’t see that happening. Between my Mom and Jensen I’m fully booked for the next week. He’s got me working every angle to get dirt on Christian and its starting to piss me off.”

“You’ve talked to Jensen?” She shakes her head.

“No, but he’s been sending encrypted files since we left Denmark.” She doesn’t say any more but I know what she’s thinking. Jensen is our handler here in Seattle. We were instructed not to make contact until we landed so the fact that he has contacted her is like sending up a flare. I’m not going to assume that he knows about Denmark but I’d be stupid to think that he doesn’t. That type of ignorance can get a man killed. Or subject to extraordinary rendition.

“Baby, we only have two days and then I have to leave. Can I see you tomorrow?” She smiles.

“Better than that. Come back tonight and I will sneak out after everyone has gone to bed. We can spend the night in here, together.”

“You’re brilliant.” I kiss the palm of her hand.

“And that is why you married me.”

Later That Night

Casa Grey genuflects to Mercer Island across Lake Washington like the grand old dame that she is. At night, the back of the house is a welcoming smile of lit windows opening onto a flagstone patio comfortable enough to fit a hundred or more souls. If you approach from the water or the lake path, the house’s terraced gardens and yawning expanse of tree-lined lawn, sends out a welcoming beacon guiding you safely to shore.

The boathouse is dark and secluded, sitting out over the water in the northwestern corner of the property, the furthest outbuilding from the main house. I watch Christian and Ana leave the through the patio doors and descend into the dark, trekking the well-worn and manicured path directly to where I’ve been pacing for the past half hour. His intentions shout at me through the darkness and I’m instantly trapped in the realm of what the fuck to do. Leaving will get me caught and staying for the show will require me to hide under the bed. Neither option floats my boat. Which is how I find myself, a few moments later, lying like a pretzel under a tarp in a two-man scull that sits on a lower level purpose-built shelf, just above the water. I can’t make out their low voices but the tone is hostile, for which I’m grateful because it means Christian is less likely to notice the shape of my legs sticking out over the hull.

I figure if I just lie very still, they’ll finish their little tour and disappear. I settle my breathing and lie back to wait. At first, everything is fine. They are probably into some heavy petting, maybe a quick romp but not much more. Especially, if this is Ana’s first time meeting the parents. Given that the family had thought Christian was gay, I’m pretty sure they won’t be hanging around in here for a marathon fuck. Thinking about it reminds me of this afternoon and what I hope will be this evening and I’m getting aroused at the thought of Mia’s naked body next to me for a night.

All of a sudden, I hear a sound I hope never to hear again…WTF? Smack! Shit, I know this is your thing but dude, get a room. Preferably in another city. You know, when you sign on the dotted line for your country, you’re pretty much prepared for anything. Not this. I’m not a prude and I’ve seen it all before but listening to your brother-in-law getting his kink on is a little disturbing.

“Ethan!” I hear Mia’s hissed whisper. “Ethan! Where are you?”

Quickly scrambling out from under the tarp, I unkink my body as she pokes her head through the door. She grins in the dark and I climb out of the boat as quietly as I can and go outside to join her. She throws herself in my arms for a kiss. Luckily, my torso is nowhere near as delicate as this afternoon and catch her lips like a promise.

“I was so worried that they had you trapped upstairs.” She giggles into my chest.

“Nah, I saw them coming so I found a place to hide. Your brother is disciplining, as we speak.” I pull her in closer anxious to get inside her skin. The evening chill makes her body shiver so I wrap her close enough to share my heat.

“Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.” She puts her fingers in her ears and pretends to sing. I pull her hands away and wrap her up again before she gets too cold.

Placing a kiss on the top of her head, I whisper into her hair, “What are you doing out here?”

“I told the ‘rents that I would come out and get those two. I even yawned my way through dessert so they would encourage everyone to abandon ship. BTW, Kate is fabulous. I really like her.”

“She’s a brat sister, but she’s my brat sister.” I chuckle as she snuggles. “You better go up and get them. I’ll go around the back of the building. Don’t take too long okay?” Giving her a quick kiss on the lips, I pull away and she steps inside the door, moving slowly up the stairs calling out loudly as she goes. Hopefully, that will be enough warning for them.

Within half an hour, everyone seems to be gone or asleep and Mia is back in the boathouse with me. At some point, between this afternoon and this evening, she has managed to sneak some extra blankets and a bottle of wine down here, so we snuggle under a blanket and look at the stars, sipping on a smooth Pinot Noir.

“Do you think we will ever have a normal life?” Her head on my shoulder makes me feel warm, loved. As normal as all fuck.

“Nope. I’m hoping for delightfully abnormal. I figure we should be pretty good at that.” She laughs but its hollow. Normal is relative to experience and I’m not sure either of us know what normal looks like, we only know that it can’t be what we know. I want kids with her. I want a home and a life that begins and ends with her kiss. I want to see her smile and not be the husband who cheats or punches his wife because she can’t crawl out of the bottom of a bottle long enough to take proper care of her family. I want…

“Wouldn’t it be weird if my brother married your sister?”

“More than weird. Kate has an innate self-destruct button when it comes to relationships.” I’m not sure I should explain. Not about Kate or my parents. That’s a truckload of my family history that Mia has no idea about and for now, I’d like to keep it that way. She has enough to deal with.

“Maybe its karma. Elliot leaves a trail of destruction wherever he goes. Perhaps, Kate has been sent by some vindictive ex.” She waves her fingers like she’s casting a spell. Women can be fucking scary that way so I’m not gonna say she’s wrong.

“I can’t imagine Kate being really serious about anyone. I mean, there have been guys, and heartaches. She’s not immune. But Kate and relationships have a shelf life. I’ve never known her to go beyond six months before she finds some reason to bail. She’s a Teflon-Romantic. It’s not gonna stick.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it myself. Both of my brothers were acting like lovesick puppies tonight. In fact, they kinda reminded me of someone.” She leans back and peers up at me from under her lashes.

“Who?” I lean in and swipe her nose with mine.

“You.” Her head lifts and our lips meet.

“Thanks. At least, I have extraordinary taste.” We kiss again. A chaste tender kiss. Her sweetness complements the wine and I don’t think I will ever have enough of those lips. When we pull apart she sucks on her bottom lip, as if she can find some lingering taste of me. Christ, if I was hard before, I am positively aching now. A soft smile plays across her mouth and she reaches for her drink, bringing it to her mouth and sipping before looking back out to the view.

“No, I really think they are serious. It seems strange to see Christian like that. I have a feeling they’ve got a long way to go but I really think Ana could be good for him. He moves around her like a satellite. As for Elliot, he couldn’t stop touching Kate.” The professional in me would have given his left nut to be a fly on the wall during that dinner. A few hours observing Christian Grey could give me enough data to write my PhD thesis.

“Two whole weeks of touchy feely Kate and Elliot. I think I might as well slit my wrists now.”

“Don’t you dare. You’ll only end up fainting.” Oh harsh, wee wifey. “If it’s any consolation, I’m not looking forward to spending the next two weeks without you.”

“Speaking of which. I bought us some new cell phones.”

“Why? We have communication devices coming out our ears?” She looks genuinely perplexed and for a moment, I wonder who the hell did her comms training.

“Mia, if I have to spend the next two weeks restricted to phone sex then I don’t want a bunch of agency spooks listening in.” An ‘o’ forms on her lips, closely followed by one of her big sexy ‘I’m-Mia-come-fly-me’ grins. Its like a hard on in a jar.

“Well, my minx, I think we should stop talking about our siblings and how fucking dire the next couple of weeks are going to be. Time for sleep.”

“Mmm, not quite what I had in mind.” She stands up and holds out her hand to me. We go into the main room and get ready for bed, making up the bed with fresh sheets and blankets. It has a nice rhythm to it. Don’t get me wrong, I love to rip her clothes off but this domesticity is soothing. It feels real. We strip naked and snuggle under the blanket and it doesn’t take long for me to be inside her. Our lips barely leave each other as we make love, different pace to the hard and fast of this afternoon. Her body is so responsive as she strains toward her orgasm with a quiet gasp, her inner muscles milking me of my own.

We whisper in the dark, making promises and declaring our love and before I go to sleep I thank the stars and whatever deities exist that I managed to make her mine.

Early in the morning I wake up to find her body still wrapped around me like an extra cover. Instantly hard, I am loathe to wake her but I don’t want to leave without making love again. I stroke her skin until, finally, she stirs in my arms and lifts her head, resting her chin on my chest.

“Good morning.” Her voice is husky. The sound of sex and sleep.

“Morning, minx.” She stretches out like a sleek cat along the length of my body. Without pausing, she slides herself onto my already hard cock and settles there for a moment. “Are you sure you were a virgin before me?”

“No, I lied.” Our shared laughter make her muscles clench around me inviting us both to move.

By the time we finish making love, the sun is higher in the sky and I know I have to go. We make plans to meet for coffee later in the afternoon and soon I am off, running around the lake to get home before Mom and Dad realize that I’m gone.

Less than twenty four hours later I am on a plane with Kate and Elliot, the love birds from hell, about to chase the elusive Farad around the fucking Caribbean and wishing I could be anywhere else.

A/N: Welcome to a 2016 Revised Chapter. Thanks for reading and please review.

Not much has changed in terms of the plot for this story but the style has been tightened a little in line with the voice that I want to create for Mia and Ethan. There is also a little more subtext reveal for Ethan. Not everything in his family has been sunshine and roses as you will know if you have read Kate and Elliot’s stories. And if you haven’t, get thee to Investing Elliot, go directly on from there to Creating Kate and do not stop until you have completed Going Grey! Just kidding. You might get confused if you haven’t read them but I hope you’re enjoying the story anyway.

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10 thoughts on “Mia Chapter 6: I Can’t Stand the Rain”

Loving their story and the fact that they are the only ones that know it….. As two young recruits, he put her first all those years ago. What heartache they both went thru, but she didn’t have the knowledge.. The agency prob knew that would harden her up… But he was never gonna let that love go.. Two weeks apart! Cell phones will be on fire!

Absolutely, it is a love that was never going to die. Can you see what frustrations lie ahead as they try to keep this secret? And yes, the phones will have to be Samsung Galaxy S3 at least – better video screen!

Had to read again so many great details in this one. The time invested in his love for her, her time thinking love was painful. Love that he jogged up to her window (should have asked her to let down her hair 🙂 ) Boat House scenes were the best “If I’m a good boy will you promise to wear the nurse costume next time?” too cute! ….”might as well slit my wrists now…” “Don’t you dare you’ll only end up fainting” you are out of control! “Are you sure you were a virgin before me?” “no, I lied” priceless along with him under the tarp and wishing he could spend more time with Christian. Always exciting to read your chapters, they do get better and better as they go along, it shows that you are having fun withit too!! Bow to the Queen! XX, L

You are too kind. You didn’t mention the hot pussy poultice – my gorgeous Beta had to go and look that one up. Lol. I am glad that I am getting better at this. It just goes to prove that you have keep practicing. Maybe I will start sharing some of my original stuff soon. 😉

Why thank you Ms Gwen. Just be careful – they could be watching you. I am now worried that I have come to their attention with all the research I have done on the CIA website. Mmmm. I might have to watch myself. 😉

This blog was born on 3 November 2012

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A research home for Historical Fiction Writers of the Antebellum Period, by A.M. Cal, author of the historical novel "Eighth Wonder" The Thomas Bethune Story. You know of Mozart and of course Bach and Beethoven. But do you know Thomas?